


Walk Side by Side with Me

by NotJustFeet



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Multi, Near Death Experience
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-25
Updated: 2012-06-30
Packaged: 2017-11-08 13:20:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/443617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotJustFeet/pseuds/NotJustFeet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a prompt on AvengerKink <a href="http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/6565.html?thread=11847077#t11847077"> - Tony knows Death well.</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Parents

It's raining. It's a soft drizzle that drifts lazily out of the sky, beading on the trampled grass and soaking deep into the mourning finery.

Tony stands there, quiet and numb, lilies clasped in his hand. He is only seventeen, and he has just lost his parents. To his right, Obie is a comforting warmth, and presence. To his left is a representative from the funeral home. She is stern and cold, but Tony appreciates her silence. It's a large crowd here. Employees of Stark Industries have gathered to pay their respects, and Tony sees a few business rivals mixed in. Family and friends are clustered together, watching the two coffins being lowered into the earth. Still no tears fall.

“No one will think you weak if you cry, Tony,” Obie says, but Tony knows they will. From now on, his life is in the spotlight and every word, every move will be scrutinised.

He hates it.

Eventually the coffins are down, farewells and condolences have been spoken, and Tony is mostly alone. Obie has gone back to press the flesh and make sure that SI won't suffer. Only the quiet representative remains, alone with a man standing under the shelter of a spreading beach tree.

“I've never been good with consoling the grieving,” the woman breaks the silence. “But you need to remember that you don't have to be like everyone else. Cry or not, its your choice.”

Tony chuckles, its the first sound that has left his throat since the funeral began.

“I don't think I remember how to,” he half jokes, turning slightly to see her better.

She's studying him like he's a particularly interesting specimen, or perhaps like a teacher trying to spot an untruth. There is no pity in her eyes, only a brusque sympathy.

“You are allowed to be angry,” she says. “Rant and rave at the universe if you want.”

“Will it do any good?”

NO, BUT YOU MAY FEEL BETTER FOR IT.

The man has left the shade of his tree to join the conversation. Despite being wrapped up against the rain, his voice is clear.

I AM TOLD IT ALSO HELPS TO REMEMBER THE GOOD TIMES.

“I don't know what to feel,” Tony admits, feeling vulnerable for doing so. 

“Most don't,” is the matter of fact answer.

There is silence again as Tony watches the raindrops on the marble headstone. He wishes he could be angry with Howard, wishes he could cry for his mother, but the rain seems to have stolen all his tears. He turns to invite the two back to warm up, but finds them gone. He simply shrugs it off, and goes on.

That night, when the whole world is asleep with Obie's snores rattling the windowpanes, Tony sneaks up to the attic. By wan torchlight he pages through old photographs, family moment captured and tied down.

Good times to remember.

He still does not cry.


	2. Yinsen

He can see the life fading from Yinsen's eyes. Time seems to be slowing down, second moving through molasses, every fading flutter of Yinsen's pulse taking an eternity. 

And there is nothing he can do.

A shadow falls over them, and servos whine as Tony readies himself to meet this new threat.

There is no threat to a man in thick armour from a man wielding a farm implement. What makes the hair on the back of Tonys neck stand on end is the bony hand curled around the shaft and the blue eyed skull grinning at him.

AH the hooded skeleton says, and Tony remembers the feel of rain against his face.

“Nice costume,” he says, half defiant and half pleading. It's hard after everything to summon up the sass that is so much a part of him, after all the torture and pain.

The skeleton reaches up and pushes back its? his hood with his free hand, and the bright sun gleams dazzlingly from the surface of the skull. There is no shadow cast. 

YOU HAVE TO LET HIM GO, MR STARK.

“No,” Tony stays, but he can see the longer pauses now between the flutter of the pulse. Yinsens eyes are already gone, staring out into a world that Tony can't see.

HE KNEW IT WOULD COME TO THIS. Somehow, the skeleton manages to sound sympathetic.

“It shouldn't have!” and Tony finds himself on his feet, the metal suit pressing tight against him, the hum of the electromagnet in his chest a reminder of all Yinsen had done for him. “I should have been able to do more, I should have been able to save him!”

The hourglass is ornate, the top bulb all but drained. The skeleton holds it up, so that Tony can read the name clearly. Ho Yinsen.

YOU DID THE BEST THAT YOU COULD. HE WILL PERHAPS BE WITH HIS FAMILY AGAIN. 

“Couldn't you do something?” and Tony wonders just how far gone his sanity is that he is pleading with a vision of Death.

EVERYTHING MUST DIE. EVERYONE HAS THEIR TIME AND PLACE. THIS IS THE TIME AND THE PLACE FOR HO YINSEN. 

“Bullshit!”

I HAVE NEVER UNDERSTOOD WHY THE EXCREMENT OF MALE CATTLE IS USED TO SHOW DISBELIEF. THERE SEEMS TO BE NOTHING STARTLING ABOUT IT.

“I won't let you take him,” and Tony has switched from half hysterical to cool control now, locking away the emotions in the box in his mind, raising the flamethrower on his arm.

YOU DO NOT HAVE A CHOICE, MR STARK. I AM SORRY. 

The gout of flame sears through the air, and passes through the robed figure as if he didn't exist. There is a soft sigh from Yinsen, and then nothing. Tony kneels once more, but there is no pulse, no breath, no life. And when he looks up, no robed figure.

He cannot spare the time now to think about this, to worry about it, to speculate on it. Cannot spare the time to mourn Yinsen properly. That will come later.

Now, he has a job to do.


	3. Himself

He was falling.

That's the last thing he remembers. The vastness of space, a black canvas speckled by stars and dark motives. The shape of the missile as it flew true, and the power in his suit cutting out. The slowly shrinking shape of his way home.

He does not feel regret. He had lain down on the wire for his friends. There was no pain, no after-effects from the battle he had taken part in. There was no sorrow for Pepper.

There was nothing but his reflection in an endless sea of mirrors. 

HELLO AGAIN, MR STARK. Death speaks from beside him.

“Oh, it's you,” and Tony only feels the faintest flickering of emotion at the appearance of the skeleton of Death again.

YOU ARE HAVING A NEAR DEATH EXPERIENCE, SO I AM HERE.

“Huh. Only near death?”

YES. YOU MAY, OR YOU MAY NOT DIE. IT IS ALL VERY CONFUSING.

“I thought that there would be angels and harps. Or fire.”

DO YOU WANT THERE TO BE?

“Not really. I always thought I'd die in bed, or blowing something up. Not saving the world.”

YOU MAY YET. AS I SAID, YOU ARE ONLY NEAR DEATH. AT THIS TIME, THIS PLACE, IT COULD GO EITHER WAY.

Despite being out of body and lacking glands for emotions and a brain for curiosity, Tony was still Tony. He poked at the robe. 

PLEASE DO NOT DO THAT.

“I'm talking to a skeleton, and you don't expect me to wonder how you stay together?”

IT IS NOT A POLITE THING TO SPECULATE ON.

“I'm not speculating, I'm investigating. Empirical evidence only. No dissections.”

STOP THAT.

“Not that I would do that anyway, since you're important to the world, and Pepper would shout at me.” The prospect of science seemed to have revived Tony somewhat, although he was still trying to figure out how to take off the robe.

Behind him, the mirrors were starting to fade. There was a blue on blue flare from the eyes of Death, and Tony found himself falling again.

There was a roar, too close for comfort. Startled, he jolted, opening his eyes to see the worried faces of his teammates, Thor, Capsicle and Hulk.

“What the hell? What just happened? Please tell me nobody kissed me?”


	4. Himself Again

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

With every beat of his treacherous heart, Tony fancied he could feel the shrapnel moving ever closer. It really was a brilliant plan, in hindsight, waiting till all the Avengers were elsewhere, before coming for Tony.

As usual, they wanted the arc-reactor. They didn't want the frail mortal shell around it, just the technology.

WE MEET AGAIN, MR STARK

“You know, if we're going to keep meeting like this, then you could call me Tony,” Tony said as flippantly as one could with a sucking great hole in the chest.

TONY. YOU ARE QUITE FOND OF BEING NEAR DEATH.

“Living on the edge, baby.” Tony joked. “Seriously though, this one wasn't by choice. So, what do I call you?”

It was bizarre looking up at a skeleton in a robe that was Death. Tony could see up his nose, or up the place his nose should be, if he wasn't a talking skeleton in a robe.

I AM DEATH.

“No first name?”

Death considered this. I WAS CALLED BILL, ONCE.

“Great! We're on first name terms already. So, Bill, how long have I got left?”

THAT DEPENDS

“On what?”

ON YOUR ASSISTANT.

“Good old Pep,” Tony smiled as another bout of pain lanced through him. “I don't deserve her, you know.”

I DON'T KNOW.

“She's way too good for me, but I do love her. And Bruce too,” he can feel himself starting to ramble now as his vision turns grey at the edges. “They're both too good for me.”

PERHAPS THEY WOULD SAY THE SAME ABOUT YOU?

“Huh,” Tony said. “Didn't think about that. Not seriously, anyway. Why aren't I freaking out about that?”

WOULD IT NOT MAKE SENSE FOR THEM TO FEEL THE SAME WAY?

Tony would have replied to this, but felt himself fading out, vision now turning black. The pain was a constant companion that followed him down into the darkness, tap-tapping heels on tiles.

Later, when he woke up in his bed, spare reactor humming away, sore in every muscle, he found Pepper on one side, and Bruce on the other.

Everything that needed to be said was done in the way that Pepper kissed him, and the way that Bruce carded his fingers though Tony's hair. They were good enough for each other.


	5. The Desert

He stood on the edge of the vast trackless sand, and tried to remember. 

OH. ITS YOU AGAIN. REALLY MR...TONY, THIS NEEDS TO STOP.

Memory hit him at the sound of the tombstone voice, washing over him like a wave, sending Tony to his knees in reflex. 

There was an hourglass in front of him, baroque and ostentatious, sand constanstly shifting in a slow stream. His name was carved into the base.

YOU ARE NOT DUE TO DIE FOR A NUMBER OF YEARS, I BELIEVE. GIVE OR TAKE THE FABRIC OF REALITY WARPING. AGAIN.

For a skeleton, he was good at sounding disappointed. And grumpy. Definitely grumpy.

A bony hand was extended to help Tony back to his feet. The bones were dry and cold but full of strength, and Tony still couldn't see what held them together.

PLEASE TRY NOT TO TAKE MY HAND APART, TONY.

“Not even for science?”

NO

“Spoilsport. So, what happens now, and why am I in a desert?”

YOU STAND CLOSER TO THE BORDER BETWEEN LIFE AND DEATH THAN YOU HAVE EVER DONE.

“There is still sand in my egg timer,” Tony pointed out.

IT IS AN HOURGLASS, NOT AN EGG TIMER. AND YES, THERE IS STILL SAND THERE.

“That's what I don't get. I'm near death, but not dying. So why are you here?”

AS I TOLD MR COULSON SOME TIME AGO, IT IS THE UNCERTAINTY PRINCIPLE. YOU MAY DIE HERE, YOU MAY NOT. AND WHILE YOU ARE ON THE EDGE OF LIFE AND DEATH, SO MUST I BE. 

“Wait, you know Coulson?”

There was a flare of darkness from those glowing blue eye sockets, and Tony felt the pain blossom in his legs, and then fade again as the desert dissolved into the familiar shapes of the interior of his helmet.

“Iron Man, respond!” and Captain America was panicking now, the usually calm man coming undone. Tony had heard the name thing when Natasha had been critically injured, and Bruce before that, and the time that Fury had been taken by terrorists (who regretted it more than Fury did).

“I'm up, I'm up. Sheesh, can't a guy take a nap round here?”

“Not under several tons of rubble, he can't” Clint said. “We thought you were a goner this time.”

“Nah, me and Death, we're on good terms. He's been known to wink, hasn't he Coulson?”

“I don't know what you mean, Stark.”

Inside his helmet, Tony smirked. That answer told him enough. Time for some investigation.


	6. Goodbye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note, there is character death in this chapter.

He could almost feel the last of the sand draining out of the hourglass of his life. He knew this day would come. Well, he didn't think that it would come so soon, but he had known that he would die. Everyone did. 

Pepper had gone first, from her bed in the hospital. She had smiled one last and final time, before Tony saw the shadow of the scythe sweep over her face. And that was it, she had been gone. Bruce had simply stared into space, breathing calmly and evenly, never letting go of her cold hand. Tony had moved to the window, but did not see the cityscape beneath him. All he had seen was the shadow of the sand, shimmering under the starless sky. 

And now it was his turn. All strength had left him, he couldn't even bring himself to open his eyes any more. He could feel Bruce's hand in his, hear the whispering of Rhodey somewhere in the room. They were sitting the death-watch for him, and if he had had the energy, he would have laughed.

His funeral wouldn't be sombre and dull, it would be a celebration of his life. AC/DC and fireworks, and half naked girls for the spirit of Pepper to roll her eyes at. And Rhodey was under legal instruction to make sure all of the old original Avengers were totally drunk by the end of the night.

Tony wasn't unhappy to be dying.

Breathing was becoming more difficult now, every breath fought for. It would be so easy just to let go, to just stop.

So he did.

ITS TIME.

The scythe blade flashed blue, and Tony Stark rose from the bed, pausing to ruffle an insubstantial hand through weeping Bruce's hair, and to wave to an unseeing Rhodey, his hand on Bruce's shoulder.

“Well, on to the next adventure though. You know, I quite fancy reincarnation. Maybe as a woman this time. Or maybe as some sort of artificial intelligence. But Pepper would have to be there. I'd be trying to take over the world in no time without her. At least with her I'd stand a chance of doing it. So, what comes next?”

Still chattering, Tony Stark faded, where to, Death didn't know. 

IT WAS A PLEASURE TO MEET YOU, TONY, Death said softly. BE WELL.


End file.
